


Detached

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Drama, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-10-02
Updated: 1999-10-02
Packaged: 2018-11-11 00:38:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11137779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: RayK goes undercover in a psychiatric hospital





	Detached

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).
    
    
    Disclaimer: Alliance owns Fraser, Kowalski, Welsh, Vecchio, Huey, Dewey,
    Diefenbaker, Vecchio, Thatcher and Turnbull. I'm just using them for
    my own perverse pleasure.  Everybody else belongs to me and the story
    is mine. The title of the series is a song by Peter Gabriel and Deep
    Forest. (used without permission)           
    
    R (possibly NC-17)for M/M SEX, VIOLENCE, H/C, RAPE, BAD LANGUAGE, ANGST
    
    IF YOU ARE UNDERAGE OR M/M SEX BOTHERS YOU: GO BACK, LEAVE NOW, WALK
    ON, BUG OFF. Thank you kindly. 
    
    WARNING: This story contains m/m sex and deals with mature themes, rape
    being the major issue. It is very angsty, but disturbing, so if my other
    stuff doesn't really turn your crank I sure as hell won't be winning
    any brownie points with this one. 
    
    Detached 
    By
    Rae
    
    --------------
    
    Detective Stanley Ray Kowalski rummaged about in the cooler and yanked
    out another Coors. "Sure ya don't want a drink?", he asked his friend
    as he popped open the can. "I'm sure.", Constable Benton Fraser replied.
    The detective shrugged and lay back against the windshield of his car.
    "Is this helping at all?" Ben's eyes remained focused on the vast, open
    night sky above. "Yes, very much. Thank you, Ray." 
    "You're very wecolme." Kowalski fell into silence and continued to take
    small, delicate sips of the beer.  He avoided looking around him, at
    the circle of trees that surrounded this clearing where they were parked.
    Trees taller than some of the city's buildings loomed above them, gnarly
    branches reaching out as if to pluck the stars from the blanket of night.
    Ray didn't take to this wilderness thing. It made him feel small, humbled.
    That, and it was too damned quiet. But it was worth it just to see the
    look of relief on Fraser's face. The past few days had been tough on
    the Mountie. He'd been feeling 'boxed in' and as a consequence had settled
    into a deep depression.   Today, after tying up loose ends on the Whitman
    case, the detective had managed to drag his friend out of the Consulate--not
    an easy task since Ben had been pretty lethargic--and driven well out
    of the city limits to a wildlife sanctuary in the middle of the woods.
    Ray was exhausted from the case, but concern for his partner had kept
    him going.  Good conscience would not leave Ben in such a miserable state
    when something could be done about it.  Kowalski yawned now, turning
    over on his side. Fraser studied his friend. "Are you tired, Ray?" He
    smiled wearily.
    "Yeah. Alittle."
    "Would you like to go back?"
    "No, no. We'll go back when you're ready."
    "I appreciate this, Ray, but you have been working very hard this past
    week, with limited sleep and--" "I'm fine, Frase." He yawned again, despite
    himself. "Besides, this is relaxing to me. I mean, gettin' away from
    the city, the lights, the noise. It's peaceful.  And," He gestured to
    his friend. "the company's a helluva lot better." Fraser smiled at the
    compliment. "Thank you, Ray."
    "You are welcome, Buddy." They lasped into silence again and Ben's eyes
    went back to the stars. In his mind's eye he imagined the aurora borealis
    spread out across the ink black of the sky. He sighed deeply. There were
    times when he missed home. But at the same time, there was little for
    him there. Here, he had a wonderful friend in Ray Kowalski.  He glanced
    over at the figure who was now sleeping soundly beside him. Ray was much
    like a younger brother. Turbulent, courageous, sometimes foolish, but
    someone he could not even imagine his life without.  Ben glanced at his
    watch. It was nearing midnight. Perhaps it was time to head back. He
    rolled off the car and after draining the cooler and sliding it into
    the back seat next to Diefenbaker, he scooped up his partner and put
    him in the car.  Kowalski murmured softly and settled into the seat.
    Ben took care not to disturb him too much as he retrieved the car keys
    from his partner's  jacket pocket and carefully buckled his seatbelt.
    The securing of the belt resulted in an annoyed mutter from the blond.
    "Safety first.",the Mountie whispered. Not that safety was ever a factor
    with Ray.... 
    
    
    ======================================================================
    
     Ray Kowalski sighed and opened his eyes. The first thing he focused
    on was....a Canadian flag? He sat up slowly. "Good morning, Ray. Did
    you sleep well?" Ben was standing over him, dressed in uniform, tea in
    hand. Kowalski looked around in confusion. "H-how did I get here?", he
    asked.
    "I brought you here.", Ben replied, "You fell asleep on the car last
    night, so I drove back to the city. I would have taken you home, but
    I couldn't find the keys for your apartment." Ray smiled thinly. "Yeah.
    I keep 'em in the glove compartment now." Ben put his tea down and began
    to shuffle through some papers on his desk. Ray ran his fingers through
    his hair, suddenly looking down at the cot on which he sat. "Where did
    you sleep?", he asked.
    "On the bedroll."
    "Aw, Frase. That's just wrong."
    "Nonsense, Ray. I'm very comfortable on the bedroll. Besides, you've
    been under alot of stress;  you were exhausted." Ray smiled. "Thanks,
    Buddy." The Mountie nodded.
    "You still look tired. You're welcome to sleep here. I can wake you after
    my shift ends." "Naw, I don't wanna bother you--"
    "It is no bother, Ray." Well, when the Mountie was right, he was right.
    The detective yawned and lay back. Ben moved forward and pulled the covers
    over him. 
    
    
    On occasion , Fraser would look in on Ray as he slept. Diefenbaker, having
    been severely chastised earlier in the day for his junk food habit, was
    curled up on the bed with Ray, his head resting on the detective's belly.
    Kowalski didn't seem to mind. He slept soundly with one hand curled in
    the wolf's fur. Ben smiled to himself and went back to work. 
    
    
     Ray awoke about a half-hour before Ben's shift ended. He wandered out
    of the office, rubbing his eyes drowsily. Fraser was standing before
    a painting of the Musical Ride tour, his back to the detective. "Are
    you feeling better, Ray?", he asked, without turning. Ray's brow furrowed
    in confusion and he started to ask how the Mountie had known, but then
    thought better of it. "Good. I am good.", he replied. Ben faced him now
    and smiled.
    "Good." 
    "Hey, Frase, I'm gonna head home and get a shower.", he mumbled, rubbing
    his hand through his disheveled hair. "I can pick up a pizza and come
    back." Ben nodded. "That would be nice, Ray." Behind Kowalski there was
    a pathetic whine. Fraser looked at the whiner sternly. "No." Diefenbaker
    nudged Ray's hand.
    "No.", Fraser repeated.
    "What's he want?", Kowalski asked.
    "He's angry with me, so he wants to go home with you." Ray scratched
    the wolf's ear. "That's cool. I don't mind. I can bring 'im back later."
    "Ray..", The Mountie began, and then he sighed and addressed Dief. "Fine.
    Go ahead."  He shook his head as cop and wolf trotted out of the Consulate
    together. 
    
    
    ======================================================================
    
       The next day found Kowalski wishing he'd drank the herb tea Ben had
    offered him with dinner rather than those four Budweiser's he'd consumed.
    His head was throbbing something terrible. The Duck Brothers, knowing
    full he had a hangover, were persistant in hassling him about every little
    thing. Someone was gonna get kicked in the head real soon, he was sure
    of it. 
    
    
     
     He was standing by his desk, massaging his aching head, when a soft
    voice said, "Detective Kowalski?" He looked up, startled. A young woman
    with sleek, strawberry blonde hair stood a few feet away, watching him
    with concern. He gasped. "Sarah?"
    "Are you, alright, Detective Kowalski?", she asked shyly.  Ray glanced
    around quickly to see if anyone else had heard. "Detec-" He put his hand
    over her mouth and pulled her into the corner. Removing his hand, he
    leaned in close and whispered, "Sarah, look, I'm undercover here. Real
    important you don't use the name Kowalski, o.k.? I'm Detective Vecchio
    right now. Or just, Ray." She nodded slowly. Stan sighed. "So, what can
    I do for you?" "It's my dad. My Uncle Dan, he's about twleve years younger
    than Dad. He blew into town last week and he was supposed to be taking
    care of my brothers and--he had Dad committed." Ray shook his head sympathically.
    "Aw, jeez, kid, I'm sorry. But I can't so anything about that-"
    "No, I know. But it's the place. It's the hospital over on Ritter and
    Delancy. You know which one I'm talking about?" Ray's eyes narrowed as
    he thought, and then his face lit up. "Oh, yeah. I've passed it a few
    times."
    "Well, I've gone over there to see Dad and one time they let me. God,
    Ray, he looks terrible. He wasn't the same guy. I mean, they must have
    him on some mad drugs or something. He wouldn't look me in the eye and
    I'm not sure he even knew who I was. And he's scared, he seems scared.
    That was one time. They haven't let me see him since. Ray, something
    is very wrong over there." She looked at him pleadingly, tears drowning
    the pale brown orbs of her eyes. "Please, help me." Kowalski squeezed
    her shoulder gently. He started to say that all he could do was have
    someone check into it, but he caught himself. "Alright. Listen. I can't
    take action against these people without some hard and fast evidence.
    So here's what we're gonna do. Tomorrow, you're going to have me committed.
    She stared at him. "No! Ray, I'm not going to have you thrown in there!",
    Sarah protested. "Sarah! Who's the cop here, me or you? This is the only
    way. You'll know where I am. The minute things get too sketchy, you..."
    He moved over to Huey's desk, pulled out a sheet of paper and scribbled
    down the Consulate address. "Go here and ask for this guy, Constable
    Benton Fraser." He wrote the name as he said it and underlined it for
    emphasis. "He's my best friend, my partner and I trust him with my life.
    Just explain everything to him." Under the name, he scribbled down his
    own address. He folded the paper and pushed it into her hand. "Listen,
    that last one is my apartment. Pick me up tomorrow. Um, eight--nine-thirty.
    'kay?" She smiled slightly, somewhat relieved. "Thank you, Ray." He cupped
    her face reassuringly.
    "Chin up, kid. Your old man's o.k." She nodded.
    
    
    
    
    As Ray watched her walk away, he thought back to the case that had brought
    them together. Not that long ago and yet it seemed a lifetime away. She
    was a only a child then, 14, living in a slum. The oldest of three children,
    she had been taking care of her two brothers and a mentally ill father.
    Sarah had certainly grown up since the last time he saw her. She looked
    better, healthier and more lively. He smiled to himself and returned
    to his desk, headache forgotten. 
    
    
    
       Getting a week off from work proved less of a problem that he anticipated.
    He had some sick days coming anyway. The next step was to call Fraser
    and tell the Mountie that he was going out of town for a few days. Just
    a vacation. Ray didn't like lying to his partner, but it was better this
    way, all things considered. 
    
    
    
    ================================================================== 
      
    Stan tapped his foot nervously and looked about mindlessly as Sarah checked
    him in. He took note of the two orderlies in the corner and four more
    moving about the corridors. Sarah was still filling out paperwork when
    the desk nurse called to the men in the corner. They moved toward Kowalski,
    gently hooking their hands under his arms and lifting him out of the
    chair. Ray allowed them to lead him down the hall, flashing Sarah a confident,
    lop-sided grin as he passed. The young woman, eyes dark with worry, did
    not return the smile. 
    
    
      
    The first few hours were just boring. He was stripped of his street clothes
    and dressed in uncomfortable,  thin scrubs. Ray spent much of his time
    keeping to himself and observing the other patients. No one really spoke
    except the hosital employees and from what he could tell, there weren't
    many of them. Not that they were needed. The patients were all zombies,
    wandering about as if in a daze. Ray behaved himself, but nevertheless
    got suspicious looks from the orderlies, the aging doctor and the cinnomon-haired
    head nurse. 
    
    
    
    Sarah stopped by after work to see Ray. An orderlie led him to the waiting
    area and sat him down beside her. "Here's your brother, Ms. Dunn." Kowalski
    scrowled. 'Here's your brother'? *Like here's your dog, here's your mail,
    here's your steak?* 'Here's your brother'? *What the hell?*  Sarah offered
    a frightened little smile. "What's going on?" Ray shrugged.
    "I dunno. They haven't started me on these drugs yet, but something is
    definitely up. They committed me on your word alone. I haven't even seen
    a doctor yet. Far as I know, that ain't standard procedure." He fell
    silent as an orderlie passed. "Remember what I said. Anything goes down,
    you call Fraser, got it?", he continued after the man was out of earshot.
    She nodded. "But, um, gimme four days, minimum. If I'm unable to contact
    you or they refuse to let you see me, then you go to him." Sarah protested
    at once. "Four days is a long time. What if something really bad happens?"
    "Sarah, four days is not a long time. What the hell could possibly happen
    in four days? Would you please trust me?" "I trust you!", she hissed,
    "It's them I don't trust." She gestured to the orderlies and the doctor.
    Ray smiled confidently and winked, patting her on the hand as he stood
    up. "I'm a Chicago hard guy, 'member? It's gonna take more than Dr.Giggles
    and a couple of apes to push me down." Sarah smiled back, but she wasn't
    entirely convinced. 
    
    
    
      The food sucked. Worse even than that lumpy shit they give you in real
    hospitals. Ray sighed, picking at what might have been sauce. He'd been
    looking for an opening, an oppurtunity to do some investigating. But
    none had come. This place was run like a military installation; security
    was fairly tight. He looked at the woman across from him. She hadn't
    touched her food, but she was busy picking at her hair and mumbling softly
    to herself. She looked like the kind of mental patients that he saw in
    the movies. The whiny type, where just about anything could set off an
    episode of hysterical bawling. Kowalski studied her for a moment, thinking.
    It was a cruel thought, but this could be the opening he'd been searching
    for. Resting his hand lightly on his tray, Ray shoved it forward into
    her glass, spilling it over onto the woman's lap. As predicted she jumped
    and started screaming as she tried to rub the water off her clothes.
    This incited some of the other patients to start crying, while others
    laughed. Either way, it was a disruption.  As the orderlies busied themselves
    with controlling the  group, Ray moved toward the door. He turned once,
    to be sure his escape was going unnoticed and he saw one of the orderlies
    violently shaking the woman who was screaming. And then he slapped her
    hard. Once, twice. Ray's breath caught in his throat. He fought the urge
    to shove through the crowd and jump the orderlie right there. As the
    scene grew more chaotic, Kowalski slipped out in search of more solid
    evidence. 
    
    
       
     The hallways were dark and eeriely silent. Cold. Ray shivered and rubbed
    his arms. The rooms were more like cells. Small, with one, tiny barred
    window. The thought of having to spend the night in such a confined space
    was already filling the detective with dread. The lights in the front
    office were off, but the door was unlocked. He turned on the lights and
    began to poke around. For lack of anything better, Ray used a letter
    opener to break into up one of the drawers. Papers, office supplies.
    Nothing of real value. He employed the letter opener again with the filing
    cabinet. Patient charts. "Jackpot.", Ray whispered. He opened the first
    file. Name, but nothing written. Same with the second. Third. Fourth.
    Fifth. Sixth. Seveth. Eighth. "Geez." Only names, nothing else. Nothing.
    No listing of medications or observations. *What the hell is going on
    in here?* Behind him the door opened and he dropped the file as he turned.
    Two orderlies stood behind him, flanked by the doctor and the head nurse.
    Kowalski raked his fingers through his hair, smiling nervously. "Hey,
    guys, I've just been exploring and ya know what? This is not the library."
    He shook his head. "I could have sworn, in the brochure, there was a
    library." Ray took another step back and the two orderlies stepped forward,
    grabbing his arms. The doctor moved in now, flicking a syringe. He struggled.
    Not intravenous. He'd expected pills, something he could throw up later.
    "Hey, Doc. What are you going to do with that?"
    "Just relax, Mr. Dunn.", he said quietly. Ray shook his head.
    "No. I don't think so." As soon as the man was within range, Kowalski
    pulled forward and head-butted him hard. The doctor went down, the syringe
    shattering as it struck the floor. The orderlie to the right swung his
    fist, catching the detective on the side of the head. Ray was on the
    floor then, lights flickering in front of his eyes. "Shit.", he muttered.
    The orderlies had him again, pinned to the ice cold floor. The doctor
    was being helped to his feet. He sighed, looking down at Kowalski. "Treat
    him as a hostile.", he told the nurse, "Take him to the shower and then
    give him the injection. The Blue 42 for this one."  
    
    
     
     Ray didn't fight much as he was dragged toward the shower. His head
    reeled from the last blow he'd received. It was a communal shower, like
    the ones they have in gyms, a few stalls side by side. He was stripped
    naked and shoved hard into the one of the stalls. The water was freezing
    and instinctively he cried out and lept forward only to be caught by
    another fierce punch. He fell back, dazed. Blood ran out of his nose,
    mingling with the water. "Shit.", Ray mumbled softly. Again he tried
    to stand, but the larger of the two orderlies stepped on his bent knee
    and forced it down, causing Ray to howl in pain. He could see the nurse
    filling another syringe. The orderlies moved forward now, turning off
    the shower, grabbing him roughly and pinning him against the wall. Ray
    struggled, but in vain. His arm was pulled out sharply so a burning pain
    shot through the nerves. Fingers dug into him hard enough to leave bruises.
    There was a mild sting as the needle pierced flesh. Almost immedietly
    he began to feel dizzy, tired. The orderlies released him and let him
    collaspe back  into the stall. Ray was able to think, but not...react
    or understand. He wanted to move, to kick 'em all in the head, but he
    could not. He had no control over his arms or legs. He was cold, freezing.
    There was a draft coming from somewhere, caressing his naked flesh like
    ice. Kowalski moaned softly and gazed up at his abusers. The two orderlies
    were beginning to take off their pants. "What..the hell...are you....doing?",
    he managed. There was a certain feeling of dread that took him over then,
    a familar feeling of knowing what was coming, but refusing to accept
    it. They laid their hands on him again, dragged him out of the shower
    and threw him down on dry tile. He was turned over on his belly, legs
    nudged apart. "Please....don't." The last thing  Ray would hear before
    searing pain branded itself on every brain cell and nerve ending was
    the sound of the nurse's laughter. 
    
    
    =================================================================== 
    
     The next few days would be a sick, miserable haze for Kowalski. For
    awhile he fought with whatever was at his disposal: hands, feet, words.
    He was rewarded for his efforts with beatings and brutal fondling. The
    showers meant an icy bath followed by another rape. At night he was cuffed
    to the bed with leather restraints, so tight that his hands would go
    numb in the first hour. But that was always a comfort compared to the
    events that would follow.  He was raped then too, sometimes once a night,
    sometimes three or four. The drugs helped, but they could not completely
    obscure reality. He was able to feel everything, the weight of the orderlie
    on top of him, the slimy sweat of each man raining down on him, taste
    it, hot and salty on his lips and feel the tickle as it trickled a path
    down his neck and chest. Every angry, vicious thrust, fingernails digging
    hard into his flesh. He felt everything. 
       In his head, he screamed and screamed, but the drugs rendered him
    helpless, like a goddamn ragdoll. Finally, Ray stopped fighting. He let
    them do whatever they wished. After the second night he took each rape
    in silence and never made a sound. 
    
    
    
     He behaved....and still they hurt him. And he did not understand. He
    could not understand why they still hurt him. He was good, he behaved.
    During dinner on the fourth day he was suddenly pulled out of his chair
    and dragged down the hall to the showers. The nurse was in a particularly
    bad mood. He barely responded to anything and she yelled curses at him
    as he sat huddled and shivering beneath the cold spray of the water.
    Ray remained equally indifferent as the orderlie raped him and this reaction
    only seemed to enrage the nurse. "Tough guy.", she muttered. "Make him
    scream." The man shoved into him even harder than before. Ray bit the
    inside of his cheek to supress a scream. He blinked, tears gathering
    in the corners of his eyes were the only release for his pain. Somewhere
    in his brain, where rational thought remained, he wondered if this should
    have gotten easier by now. *Please make it stop hurting. Please.* Tears
    rolled down his face and the teeth digging hard into his cheek had drawn
    blood. He heard the click of the nurse's shoes and felt the toe nudge
    the back of his head. She bent over him and then laughed. "He's crying.
    Aww...not so tough." She laughed, joined now by the rapist. Every part
    of Kowalski's body flushed and burned with humiliation and he emitted
    a low whimper, unheard over the laughter of his tormentors. One word,
    whispered, hopeful. "Frase." He felt the man on top of his stiffen and
    shudder. Ray's stomach turned and suddenly all he'd just eaten came spewing
    out in a sick, greenish brown mush. He cringed as the orderlie pulled
    out of him. He knew what would come next. He'd been bad. Bad. A sharp
    smack across his back and he scrambled up, slipping on his own vomit
    and then he was struck again and again. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry.", he whimpered,
    huddling into a corner. And the beating continued, until he was sobbing
    like a child. And the nurse, leaning against the wall, laughed, her eyes
    alight with amusement. 
    
    
    
    ====================================================================
    
    Benton Fraser was filling out yet another report when he glanced up to
    see a young woman in the doorway of his office,  "Constable Fraser?"
    Turnbull appeared behind the young woman.
    "I'm sorry, sir, I tried-" Fraser raised his hand.
    "Never mind, Turnbull. Will you please come in?" He was somewhat alarmed
    by her appearance, the pale face, eyes blood-shot and puffy as if she'd
    hadn't slept in days. "You are Constable Benton Fraser?"
    "Yes." With a sigh of relief she entered the office and shut the door.
    "I was given your name by Ray Kowalski-I, mean, Vecchio." Ben's ears
    perked up at the mention of that name and his eyes narrowed. "My name
    is Sarah. I knew Ray from when he was still a beat cop.", she added,
    quickly, seeing his expression."He was good to my family when we were
    going through a hard time." She sighed. "I think-I came to him for help.
    Again. And I think--I might have really gotten him into some trouble."
    Ben sat back. "I'm not sure I understand."
    "My father was wrongly thrown into a psychiatric hospital and they refused
    to let me see him. I told Ray that I thought they were abusing the patients.
    He said there was only one way to be sure and that was to go in undercover.
    I told him it was a bad idea, but h-he said, 'Who's the cop here, you
    or me?'  Now, they won't let me see him. He said four days, at least.
    T-today's the fifth." Her lips trembled. "He's the only person I trust."
    Tears trailed down her cheeks. "If-If anything happens to him..." Fraser
    stood quickly and put his hand on her shoulder. "It's alright, Sarah.
    Ray is a good officer, I'm sure he's fine. But he should not be in that
    hospital." He offered a reassuring smile. "I'm going to contact his lieutenant
    and have him removed. Why don't you go home and-" "No!", she shook her
    head. "I can't go home until I'm sure he's o.k." Fraser sighed, thinking
    for a moment. "You can stay here with Turnbull." She nodded.
    
    
    
    
     As the Mountie had predicted Welsh was furious. Ben held the phone away
    from his ear as the older man screamed out colorful obscenities. "Are
    you done, sir?" Harding was breathing hard.
    "I'm gonna have to call in some favors on this one, but I can have a
    team and a warrant together  in a half-hour. Where the hell is this place
    now?" Fraser glanced over at the young woman. "Sarah, where is this the
    hospital?"
    "Ritter and Delancy.", she said. 
    "Thank you.", Ben said, "Lieutenant-"
    "Yeah. Ritter and Delancy I heard. Listen, don't let the girl go anywhere.
    We're going to need a statement." "The Lieutenant says you have to make
    a statement." Sarah nodded, wiping her eyes. "Sure. Anything.", she replied.
    "Good." 
    "Ben!"
    "Yes, sir?"
    "Can you meet us at this hospital in....say...an hour?"
    "Yes, sir." Fraser hung up and ran his fingers through his hair. For
    awhile he stared at his boots and then, suddenly aware that eyes were
    upon him, he looked up. Sarah watched him with a miserable expression.
    "You're worried about him.", she said softly. Ben started to lie, but
    as usual it rose like bile in the back of his throat. "Yes, I am." She
    cast her eyes downward.
    "I'm sorry I got him into this." The Mountie dropped down in front of
    her, taking her small hands into his own. "Sarah, Detective Vecchio is
    a good officer, an excellent officer and I am proud to call him my partner
    and my friend, but he tends to...act before he thinks. You didn't tell
    him to go undercover, he thought of that himself. And he went in without
    any back-up, without informing his superior officer, his fellow officers
    or even me of his intentions. He should have known better." He smiled
    gently. "But, you know, for all his recklessness, I have never known
    him to come out of a situtation weaker than he went in. He will be fine,
    you'll see." She smiled back and squeezed his hand alittle. "Thank you,
    Constable."
    
    
    
    
        The psychiatric hospital was in a state of pandemonium as the police
    stormed in, followed by paramedics and an investigative team from the
    HRS.  Ben went down the hallways, searching for his partner. He recalled
    being onboard the Henry Allen, running around the lower decks, calling
    for Ray. He'd been unwilling to leave him, even as the ship was sinking.
    There had been a fear in him then, that he would not find Ray in time.
    And he had that feeling now, though it seemed unwarranted.  He checked
    offices and cells, to no avail. He took a quick peak onto the shower
    room, saw nothing and began to leave, when he smelled....hmm, that scent.
    That scent that was distinctly Ray Kowalski 
    
    
    
    "Ray!" There was a soft whimpering, amplified in the small space of the
    communal shower. Fraser searched out the sound and pulled back the curtain
    on the largest stall. Kowalski was huddled in the corner, soaked, naked
    and shivering. Ben's heart jumped. He unbuttoned his tunic quickly and
    wrapped it around his friend. Kowalski gasped and flinched at his touch
    so the Mountie drew away in surprise. "Ray?" The detective shook his
    head and attempted to push himself further into the corner. "Not--No
    more. I-I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
    "Ray?" He reached his hand out slowly as he would with a wild animal,
    letting Ray see his open, unarmed palm and lay it on his partner's shoulder.
    "Ray, it's Ben. Do you know who I am?" His friend sighed deeply and his
    eyelids fluttered.  Fraser caught him as he fell foward and eased him
    onto the floor.  He pulled the tunic tighter around the slender form.
    "Ray. Ray. Ray." He gently slapped the detective's face. The eyelids
    fluttered again and opened. He looked up at Benton and smiled weakly.
    "Hey, Frase. I knew you'd find me." He heard footsteps and looked back
    to see Dewey standing in the doorway. "Holy shit.", the other detective
    muttered, "How is he?" Ben wrapped his arm around Kowalski's waist and
    hoisted him up. Ray was like a dead weight in his arms, barely able to
    hold his head up, let alone the rest of his body. "Drugged, I think.",
    Ben replied. "Get some blankets." Dewey nodded and disappeared down the
    hallway.    
    
    
    
     Fraser found a place free of drafts and sat down, cradling his partner.
    Ray relaxed slightly, settling into the warmth and strength of Ben's
    body, laying his head on the Mountie's shoulder.  Instinctively, Fraser
    stroked his hair, and softly whispered a poem in a mixture of  Inuktitut
    and French. The detective sighed and closed his eyes.  Huey and Dewey
    were coming down the hall, each holding a blanket. Ben eased the blond
    forward gently so that Tom and Jack could pull the blankets around him.
    Kowalski's eyes flew open and he yelped, pulling away.  Both Huey and
    Dewey moved back, startled as Ray scrambled back into the closet corner,
    curling into a ball. "Jesus.", Jack whispered. Ben squatted down again
    beside his partner. "Ray, it's o.k. It's Huey and Dewey. They are detectives,
    like you." He reached out and stroked his friend's hair. Kowalski's body
    was so drawn and tense, that he was trembling. "Ray, they won't hurt
    you.", he whispered. The blond whimpered. Fraser looked to the other
    two detectives helplessly.  Jack stepped back. "I'll get the medics."
    
    
    
    
    
       Huey returned in a matter of minutes, followed by two paramedics and
    Welsh. Fraser felt Kowalski tense, but nothing could have prepared him
    for what happened next. A scream rose from deep within the lithe body
    and he went into hysterics, thrashing violently in Ben's hold. With the
    aid of the medics, Fraser managed to get the blond onto the floor.  
    "Ray, calm down. Calm down." Kowalski screamed, scratching at the walls
    until his fingers were bleeding. "Can't you sedate him?",Welsh asked.
    A raven-haired medic looked to the men who stood behind her. "We cannot
    sedate him without knowing what else he was given. It could kill him."
    Ben cradled his friend's head, taking the brunt of the impact as Ray
    repeatedly slammed his skull against the tile floor. "Leave me alone!!",
    he howled. After a terrifying struggle and finally employing the aid
    of two other officers they managed to pin Ray's arms. Through the detective's
    terrified shrieks, the black-haired medic began to sing softly in a Middle
    Eastern dialect. A need for breath finally silenced Kowalski and the
    song echoed through the shower room. There was sadness in it and Fraser
    thought it to be a love song of some kind. It seemed to have a remarkable
    effect on the detective. He began to shiver again and his eyes rolled
    back into his head. The medic stopped singing and pulled up his eyelids.
    "Detective Vecchio, can you hear me?", she said quietly. 
    "D-don't laugh. No more." Her eyes narrowed and she pushed the wet hair
    away from his forehead. "I'm not going to laugh you, Detective Vecchio.
    No one is laughing." 
    
    
    
     Ben was still shaking as he entered the ER.  He'd never seen Ray like
    that before and the image that was recorded in his mind's eyes was haunting
    him.  After a long struggle, the medics had finally managed to successfully
    restrain the detective and put him in the ambulence. Tom had gone to
    retrieve Sarah and HRS was contacting the families of the other patients.
    Now, the Mountie took a seat between Welsh and Huey and together, they
    waited.  
    
    
    
     After nearly a four hour wait, the doctor, a young woman with aurburn
    hair approached them. She identified herself as Dr. Marian Phillips.
    "Detective Vecchio is resting.  He has bruises and cuts.", she said.
    "Resulting from the incident in the bathroom with the medics?",Fraser
    asked hopefully, though he already knew the answer. The doctor shook
    her head. "He has wounds on his face, chest, abdomen and back that are
    days old." Welsh scrowled. "Sick bastards.", he muttered.
    "But," she continued, "there was no permanent damage. Now, we are keeping
    him restrained until the drugs have passed out of his system. We are
    going to avoid sedating him unless he becomes a risk to himself.  Coming
    off a drug psychosis is difficult, sometimes painful. But, " She smiled
    reassuringly. "that is the worst of it. I expect he'll make a full recovery."
    Ben smiled. "Thank you. Can I- can we see him?" 
    "Not right away. From what I was told by the paramedics, it seems having
    too many people around agitates him. Not a big surprise, all things considered."
    She looked at the the men sternly. "This is a very sick and degenerate
    case of abuse, gentlemen, and an absolutely depraved misuse of medical
    privilege. I trust you will do everything in your power to see that those
    people get what they deserve." "They will be punished to the fullest
    extent of the law.",Welsh replied.  The young doctor nodded solemnly.
    "Pity. I was hoping for something less merciful.", she replied curtly
    and walked away. Welsh turned to the Tom and Jack. "Go home, gentlemen.
    It's been a long day. I'll call you when Ray wakes up." The two detectives
    nodded. As they left, the lieutenant said to Ben, "You too, Constable."
    The Mountie shook his head.
    "No, sir. Ray is my partner, I won't leave him." Welsh sighed.
    "Fraser, you're dead on your feet. Go back to the Consulate and get some
    sleep." "With all due respect, sir, you look worse than I do. No offense
    intended. You should go home, but I am going to stay here." Harding looked
    at the younger man steadily. "You're a good man, Constable.", he said
    finally as he slipped into his jacket. "Thank you, sir." Benton watched
    the lieutenant leave and then settled into the uncomfortable plastic
    chair. 
    
    Continued in Broken
    


End file.
